Season 3,5 Tags and Drabbles
by SereneQuill
Summary: Ficlets and drabbles based on Eureka's Season 3.5. Written for the LJ eureka tag challenge, a missing scene or alt scene for every episode. Some slash, het, mix of genres see each chapter header .
1. 309: Shades of Callister

**Title**: Shades of Callister

**Pairing**: past Jo/Callister

**Rating**: PG

**Disclaimer**: Not mine!

**Warnings**: Spoilers for 309: Welcome Back, Carter,

**Summary**: Tag for 309. Set during/after Jo's storming out of the station.

* * *

Her fingers were unlatching her badge the moment the word "artificial" left Fargo's mouth. Every nerve in her body was screaming in protest. More words were pouring out of Fargo's mouth, but they were getting lost in a haze of memory.

Something snapped. "That's it! Passed over again? I don't think so." She thumped the badge into Allison's hand with a little more force than she meant to use.

"_Jo?"_

"_Hey you," she greeted Callister, rising from her desk to greet him with a warm kiss. He brushed a stray bit of hair from her face, touch so gentle it made her shiver._

It was insulting enough to be passed over a second time. But to be passed over by a machine! She slammed the gun belt on the counter, ignoring Carter trying to call her back. "I quit. I'm not working for that…" _Person… machine… notCallisternotagain!_ screamed her mind. "Thing," she concluded, though the word stabbed at her; in her mind's eye, Callister's too human eyes looked betrayed.

"_It's about Callister," Carter interrupted her mid-rant, eyes too kind, too soft. Even Stark looked… oddly sympathetic, which was freaking her out._

"_Worse than running off with your daughter?" she asked, her own voice choking on the sarcasm._

"_It's… he's not a real…"_

"_Of course he's real," Jo scoffed, trying not to smile as she remembered the feeling of waking up in bed next to him, always so much warmer than her, his arms curled protectively around her waist._

"_He's AI," Stark put in, shifting uncomfortably. "I… created him."_

_The world dropped out from under Jo's feet._

Jo stopped short when she realized she'd walked all the way to the burnt building that had once housed Stark's AI laboratory. She entered the code that she wasn't supposed to know and made her way to the concealed staircase, slipping down to the subbasement.

The lights flickered slightly as she turned them on, the generator diverting just enough power, but after a moment, she turned them back off, leaving the room only bathed in the soft blue glow of the stasis pod in the center of the room, submerged just below the surface of the floor.

Jo laid down in the dust, pressing her cheek against the cool glass, her face next to the icy, impassive face of Callister Raines. "Hi," she murmured, relaxing against the case. "So, I quit my job today…"


	2. 310: Recertification Testing: Emotional

**Title**: Recertification Testing: Emotional Component

**Pairing**: Jack/Nathan

**Rating**: PG

**Disclaimer**: If they were mine, we'd be on late night HBO. Just sayin'.

**Warnings**: Possible supernatural (open to interpretation), spoilers through 310,

**Summary**: When she mentioned an emotional component to the test, Jack assumed it was code for 'we're gonna try to make you cry' not 'we're gonna bring back dead people to screw with your brain.'

* * *

Jack gasped as the last of the water drained from the room, his arms and legs feeling like lead after having treaded water for what seemed like at least an hour. "Great, what next?" he called out sarcastically, and it occurred to him a moment too late that he really should at least think about not taunting the sheriff hating test. If he wanted to stand a chance.

A dim light came on, and about ten yards away, a black leather couch was the only thing in the room. "Great, a break," Jack observed, managing to get to his feet, stagger to the couch, and collapse, curling up a little as he did.

Exhausted, it took him a moment before he became aware of hands stroking his head, a gentle touch smoothing his hair. "Hello, Jack."

Dead tired or not, that voice had Jack scrambling away and sitting on the floor when his legs didn't hold up. "You're…" he started, hands flailing at the new presence in the room, which was definitely a hologram. Had to be. "You're dead."

"And yet," Nathan spread his hands expansively, leaning back on the couch with a smug smile. Immaculate as always, in the same well tailored suit he'd been wearing when he vanished.

"Yeah," Jack dragged the word out, rubbing at his eyes. "What part of the test are you supposed to be? The 'annoy me to death' part?"

"No, though that would make more sense," Nathan agreed, looking thoughtful. "I'm the emotional baggage component." He grinned smugly, a familiar look that made Jack want to react almost automatically with sharp words. "Aww, Sheriff, I knew you cared! This one of those sheriffy guilt things?"

"Hey, you made the call, I offered to be the one in that time particle speeding thing!" Jack objected hotly, burying his face in his hands for a moment. "Crap," Jack spat finally, looking up at the hologram. "Seriously, this is what the damn machine picks out of my unresolved issues to deal with? I've got an ex-wife and a teenager, there has to be better stuff in there!"

"No argument here," Nathan agreed, sitting back and examining his nails. "Unfortunately, we're stuck here till you talk out whatever made it summon me for your entertainment."

Jack didn't say anything for a long moment, and Nathan sighed, sitting forward. "Look, maybe start by moving back up to the couch? Your muscles will thank you for it. Plus, you've got flame throwers coming."

"Seriously?" Jack groaned, scooting over to the couch and accepting Nathan's hand up. Relaxing into the soft leather was a godsend, he had to agree, and as much as he might want to, he couldn't object to the warmth coming off the Nathan hologram at his side. "And by the way, if you're a hologram, how come I can—"

"Come on, Jack, just spit it out already," Nathan rolled his eyes. "We eliminated guilt, so that leaves… what? You want to say you're sorry for me dying? You miss me?"

"No," Jack retorted hotly, brain racing. "Well, yeah, but no, not why you're here." If he came out and said it on tape, he'd be just as fucked when Allison saw it, so he decided to act instead. It was what he really wanted anyway.

Kissing Nathan was like falling into an icy stream in the middle of summer, jolting and energizing, and even better was the feeling of Nathan's hand coming up to cup his face, deepening the kiss, tongues touching in what felt like a shock of static electricity which Jack blamed on the holographic system. "There," he gasped, pulling away slightly. "Now you know, I did care."

The lights snapped out, and a mechanical voice sounded: "Next stage of testing, begin."

When the lights came back on, Jack was dangling from a rope with a twelve story drop below him. "I liked the last test better," he shouted out.

*-*

"Congratulations, Sheriff," the doctor told him as he stepped out of the chamber.

"I passed?" he shouted exuberantly, still half deaf and high from the adrenaline rush of playing duck and cover with a mechanical dragon. Flame thrower indeed.

"You did," she confirmed, and Jack pumped the air once before sobering again.

"Hey, that bit right after the treading water, you think maybe you could… not show that to Allison?" Jack asked.

"The repelling down the wall bit?" she pursed her lips, baffled. "Hardly your worst moment, Sheriff." She had to repeat it louder for him when the ringing proved too loud.

"No, before that," Jack replied.

"Sheriff, before that we lost your feed for about five seconds because of the test transitions, then you had to do the repelling," she explained.

Jack frowned, but seeing the 'can I psychoanalyze this' look on the doctor's face, he quickly grinned and said, "Huh, must have fallen asleep for half a moment then. Was tired enough to have!"

"Come on, your partner's waiting for you," she urged him, and Jack painted on a grin, baffled but determined to celebrate his victory. He'd bug Henry for an answer later.


	3. 311: Whiskey Musings

**Title**: Whiskey Musings

**Pairing**: implied/sort of/unrequited Jack/Nathan

**Rating**: PG

**Disclaimer**: So totally not mine.

**Warnings**: Spoilers through 311: Insane in the P-Brane.

**Summary**: Jack comes home after a not so great day dimension hopping…

* * *

"SARAH, beer me. No, make it whiskey."

The house hummed to work on the drink as Jack unbuttoned his uniform before grabbing the dram of alcohol and heading up the stairs. "Bad day, Jack?" SARAH asked, a little cautious.

"How'd you guess?" he snorted, quickly changing into his favorite pair of battered soft jeans and an equally abused old sweater Zoë had given him several Christmases ago. SARAH had tried a few times to remove it from Jack's collection, but the sheriff was unnaturally attached to it.

"The last time you requested whiskey was when Dr. Stark died," the AI reported to him, modulating her tone to a carefully neutral sound. Jack stopped mid hanging his uniform, nodding to himself thoughtfully.

"Sounds about right," he agreed, looking up slightly as he always did, as though he expected to see a visual representation of SARAH in her speakers. "Sometimes it sucks being the town moron," he informed the house as he swallowed a gulp of whiskey. "And I'm starting to think my IQ is tattooed on my forehead for everyone to see."

"I estimate your IQ to be approximately 134," SARAH reported cheerfully, hoping it would be easy to fix this problem. "Well above the range usually ascribed to moron."

"Uh, SARAH, my IQ is 111," Jack corrected her, frowning as he sipped some more whiskey.

"Your records indicate your IQ was tested in 1986, well before the fully established Gardner Multiple Intelligences Intelligence range testing became available," SARAH replied easily. "Your kinesthetic, interpersonal, visual spatial, musical, and moral intelligences test well into the genius range. Your IQ average number however is dragged down by your average scores in linguistic, logical, mathematical, naturalistic, and intrapersonal intelligences. Though your logical IQ tests into the gifted range, about a 127."

"That makes… absolutely no sense to me," Jack informed her as he headed down to the living room, refilling his glass before flopping into a chair. "But I'll take your word for it."

"Of course, Jack," SARAH replied, deciding she might as well update her assessment to Jack's file. It wouldn't hurt for Dr. Blake to be aware of it.

Jack sighed, sipping his whiskey and staring into the fire. "Might I suggest you eat something in order to negate the intoxicating effects of drinking whiskey?" SARAH tried helpfully.

"Thanks, but I'd rather be drunk," Jack informed her, his voice too quiet.

"You said the same thing when Dr. Stark died," the AI noted, lowering her voice to match his. "Has something happened? I did not monitor any serious incident at GD beyond your trip into the fifth dimension."

"Yeah, that's the problem," Jack snorted, twirling the ice in his whiskey around, looking thoughtful. "I know I'm the only person who doesn't believe Nathan is dead. And today, for a moment, I thought I was dead too. I thought maybe I'd get…"

"You anticipated an encounter with Dr. Stark," SARAH interpolated, gathering the data from her memory banks to reach an emotional conclusion. "And you were disappointed by not finding him."

"Even when Tess explained that we had sidestepped ourselves into another dimension, I kept thinking, could this be where Nathan ended up?" Jack admitted, tossing back half the glass of whiskey. "God, I'm pathetic."

SARAH processed the accident data again, then entered Jack's suppositions and a few other theoretical models, then spoke up. "Perhaps you simply moved a dimension too far," she suggested.

Jack frowned, tilting his head up. "What do you mean?" he asked cautiously.

"Dr. Stark's accident involved time, which is the fourth dimension, not the fifth," SARAH explained, earning a crooked half smile.

"I thought she skipped a dimension," Jack muttered to himself.

"It occurs to me," SARAH continued, her data banks spinning rapidly. "That perhaps Dr. Stark, like the particle within the chamber, was accelerated in timespace, within the fourth dimension. One potential outcome would be his reappearance later in this time line."

"How much later?" Jack asked, sitting up and setting down the alcohol.

"It is impossible to calculate given current scientific theory," SARAH replied, disappointed that she didn't have an answer that would encourage Jack to leave the glass sitting on the coffee table. "It could take months, years, even centuries."

"Centuries," Jack murmured faintly, picking up the glass again and sipping.

"While I know I am still in trouble for my scientific exploits in gravity manipulation, I would like to continue to build a theoretic model based upon this idea, Jack." The AI hoped he would allow her to continue.

"All right," Jack agreed, standing up and stretching a little. "I'll have Henry check on what you're doing every now and then, though," he warned her, but SARAH was content, seeing Jack pull some chicken from the freezer, starting dinner as he finished the whiskey.


	4. 312: The Problem with Replacement Models

**Title:** The Problem with Replacement Models

**Pairing:** Jack/Nathan past, sort of Jack/Tess implied

**Rating:** M

**Word Count:** 400

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

**Warnings:** Spoilers through episode 312: It's Not Easy Being Green, slash, a bit of mentioned kink.

**Summary:** Jack's starting to see why rebounds and replacements are a bad idea.

* * *

When he and Abby split, Jack dated a blonde couples' therapist with issues about men who put their jobs first. He'd never been good at subtlety in rebounds.

So when Tess Fontana walked into his life, all quick quips and insultingly looking down her nose at him, he thought she might not be a megalomaniac scientist with an equal passion for tying Jack down and pleasantly tormenting him till he begged, but she would probably do. He could use her to help him find his balance again, and with a little luck, he'd stop looking for Nathan in every GD catastrophe, from alternate dimensions to incoming signals from god knows where (Actually, he muttered to himself, god probably didn't have clearance to know about it either.)

The problem was that her cutting words didn't make his dick twitch the way it had when Nathan would dryly slide a good barb in, a little sparkle in his eyes, a slight upward twist of his lips in a cool smirk. He wasn't hard when she got in the final word, slamming him down hard, they way he always had been for Nathan.

His mind came to the crashing realization as he heard her actually laugh, a rough, rude, callous sound; Tess Fontana simply was not Nathan Stark.

Nathan, who had once managed to use just that insufferably arrogant voice, detailing out a number of dirty suggestions in Jack's ear as they watched a test in Section 2, talking low, just a dirty growl in Jack's ear, bringing him so close to coming without ever touching him that by the time Nathan slid a hand down Jack's pants, he'd exploded with the first brush of fingers.

Nathan, who would have Jack on his knees at a word, ready to be damned with faint praise and slight hitches in breath that meant more than all of Jack's begging, because he'd broken a piece of the iron control of the director of GD.

Nathan, who had once mocked him into such a state of frustration he'd barely made it through the door before he had to shove his tongue into Nathan's mouth just to shut him up.

Tess laughed again, at him, and Jack gritted his teeth slightly, as his brain reminded him once more—

Tess Fontana was not Nathan Stark. Maybe she would do for now, a replacement, but she would never be him.


	5. 313: A Dream Is A Wish

Title: A Dream is a Wish...

Pairing: Vince/Paul Sueños

Rating: PG

Word Count: 650

Disclaimer: If they were mine, Dr. Sueños totally would have been around... lol!

Warnings: slash, spoilers through 313: If You Build It...,

Summary: With sleepwalking and brain chemistry, naturally Allison would summon GD's expert back from his stint on the space beds for NASA.

* * *

Paul Sueños walked into Café Diem after he had run the first battery of tests on the teenage sleepwalkers, the familiar pressure of work in Eureka settling back in around him like an old friend. The sheriff had looked relieved to see him, and Paul knew the man appreciated his sense of humor and straightforward manner just as much as his brains. He wasn't surprised to learn that Carter had requested his presence to help figure out what was happening to his daughter, or that Allison had immediately had him on a plane as a result.

He sat down tiredly at the counter, watching Vince finish an animated conversation with one of the Baker twins. He didn't bother to hide his observation, just leisurely took in the smile and easy manner he'd missed most about Eureka. Vince turned to see him a moment later, his smile fading slightly.

"I heard you were back in town," Vince muttered, shaking his head as he poured Paul a cup of coffee automatically. "The sleepwalkers?"

"Carter's daughter is being affected, he asked for me," Paul let his fingers brush Vince's as he took the cup, watching the chef jerk back as though he'd been scalded. _Slowly_, he reminded himself. _Don't spook him._

"And how long will you be here?" Vince asked pointedly, folding his arms in irritation.

"I've asked for a long term transfer back," Paul admitted, sipping his coffee. "I've finished the work NASA needed."

"I see," Vince was still closed off, guarded, but now Paul could see a small flicker of hope in his eyes. "What made you decide to come back?" he asked eyeing Paul suspiciously.

"Missed the town," Paul shrugged dismissively. "Missed my labs, missed the coffee... missed..."

The 'you' at the end of his words went unspoken, but Paul could see it was understood by the way Vince subtly relaxed, turning an evaluating eye on Paul. "How long term?" Vince asked after a long silence.

"Three or four years," Paul replied, mouth suddenly feeling dry. "As close to permanent as I can get."

Vince was quiet, so Paul finished his coffee quickly, draining the cup and handing it back. "Nothing has changed on my end since I left five months ago," he murmured in a low undertone. "I just wanted you to know... in case you... maybe... change your mind?" he concluded lamely, before hurrying out of the café into the rapidly darkening evening and starting his walk back up to GD. _Stupid_, he thought to himself, _thinking Vince waited all this time for you._

"Wait!" Vince called after him, and Paul turned, allowing the chef to catch up. "Three or four years?" Vince repeated, and Paul nodded, fighting a frown.

"Is it enough?" Paul asked worriedly. "It's all I could do, the best I could—" his words were lost when Vince cupped his cheek quickly and pulled him in to a soft kiss.

"I was hoping they'd bring you back," Vince admitted finally. "Even dreamed it a few times and woke up disappointed." Paul chuckled, kissing him again.

"I'm in the business of knowing all about dreams and wish fulfillment," Paul teased the chef. "Hope you've got some more saved up we can work on. Can I buy you dinner when this is all over?"

Vince rolled his eyes, fingers linking with Paul's easily. "Where do you think you're staying?" he asked, and Paul shrugged.

"Dr. Blake set up temporary quarters at GD, a bunk there for me," he admitted, shifting uncomfortably. "I didn't want to presume..."

"You still have the key?" Vince asked pointedly, and Paul nodded, having always suspected why Vince hadn't demanded it back. "See you tonight then," Vince said, and with one last kiss, he headed back to Café Diem, whistling as he went.

Paul turned back to the walk to GD, heart more buoyant now that he was truly home.


	6. 314: Day Off

Title: Day Off

Pairing: Vince/Paul Sueños

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 308

Disclaimer: Not mine!

Warnings: slash, spoilers through 314: Ship Happens, sort of sequel to last week's tag, "A Dream Is A Wish…"

Summary: Where was Vince during the episode? Didn't he lose items to CylonKim's towers?

* * *

The knocking continued and Vince sighed, kissing Paul's shoulder, careful not to disturb the sleeping scientist as he climbed out of bed, threw on a robe, and headed down to let in the sheriff, relieved to see Carter had a cart of Café Diem appliances with him.

"Sheriff," he greeted Carter, letting him through the locked door. "Thanks for returning my missing appliances!"

"All in a day's work," Carter replied wearily, and Vince decided against mentioning that one of the can openers wasn't his. It was nicer than his old one anyway. "What's with the…?" Carter asked, hooking a thumb at the 'Closed till Sunday' sign.

"GD ordered the sleepwalkers to make up the sleep and…" Vince flushed a little, then plunged forward. "Paul's back in town, so I'm taking a little vacation."

Carter paused, then a wide grin split the sheriff's handsome face. "You and Dr. Sueños? Nice, congratulations!"

Vince let out a breath, a little surprised by the sheriff's easy acceptance. "I guess I owe you a thanks for bringing him back to Eureka," Vince nudged the subject, and Carter shrugged.

"Purely selfish," Carter replied. "I demand the best to help my daughter, and he's it. Making you happy, that's a bonus. I'll pass along the word not to disturb you."

"Thanks. Grab some ground Vinspresso from the freezer on your way out," Vince said, waving before returning upstairs to his apartment, sliding back into bed.

"Okay?" Paul murmured quietly, his arms wrapping around Vince almost instantly when the chef slid in.

"Sheriff returned my missing stuff," Vince muttered, nudging Paul a little, so he could rest his head comfortingly on Paul's shoulder. "And promising to enforce my vacation rights."

"Town ought to give that man a bonus," Paul decided appreciatively, sighing in contentment when Vince nuzzled his throat softly before settling back in to sleep.


	7. 314: God's Sense of Humor

Title: God's Sense of Humor

Pairing: hints of Jack/Nathan

Rating: PG

Word Count: 235

Disclaimer: Not mine!

Warnings: Spoilers through 314: Ship Happens

Summary: Jack thinks God has a warped sense of humor.

* * *

In a rare moment of quiet, no one demanding his attention, no immediate crisis (though there is all sorts of impending trouble lingering in his mind), Jack pauses, watching the cylon-Kim (and he won't _**ever**_ admit he uses Fargo's nickname for the organic computer woman in his mind) through the lab glass.

How many times did he pray that the dead could return to life in one of Eureka's scientific miracles? How many times did he promise God he'd give up pizza, baseball, complaining, picking on Fargo, or any number of other inane habits in exchange for bringing back someone he had lost? How many prayers had he said since the time accident, the dissolving body?

He'd lost count of the one sided conversations he'd held with God since Nathan… vanished. It was never death in his mind. The marshal in him still insisted death was blood, bullet holes, or charred remains. Jack had never been a religious man before coming to Eureka, but Nathan was one loss too many for him to stave off depression without deciding to believe in something greater.

"You've got a really warped sense of humor," Jack whispers to the cosmos, God, or whoever is listening somewhere out there. He watches the wrong scientist- not the scientist he'd prayed for- work in the lab beyond for a moment longer.

And he wonders if he still has to give up baseball.


	8. 315: The Competition

Title: The Competition

Pairing: Jack/Tess, one sided Tess/Allison, one sided mention of Nathan/Jack

Rating: PG

Word Count: 661

Disclaimer: Not mine, not making money, etc.

Warnings: Spoilers through 315: Shower the People, femslash, slash

Summary: For the eureka_tag challenge on livejournal. Tess sometimes wonders if Allie knows they're competing.

* * *

It wasn't until after her slip and flirting with Manlius, after Jack's subtle brush off, after a few crisis moments, that Tess had a moment to stop and think about anything she'd said or done in the past few hours. It was her greatest weakness, she knew, acting without thinking, speaking too quickly, and never bothering to process until she had a dead moment. And boy had she dug herself an interesting hole this time.

As soon as she'd come to Eureka, she'd seen that Allison was attracted to Jack. And he'd done what she'd always done, started up their subtle competition and gone after the man that had Allie's attention.

It had started with a sweet organic chemistry tutor. Big 'fro, soulful chocolate eyes, he had Allison hooked from the minute they met. Tess couldn't even remember the kid's name, even though she was the one who had gotten to sleep with him. She bet Allison would if she asked.

Then had come Dr. Manlius. They'd both actively pursued him, even stopped speaking at one point, the contest ending in a draw at the end of the year, when he moved on to bigger and better things. Flirting with Manlius in front of Allison was all habit. Flirting with him in front of Jack was stupid and could cost her this round of the game, she mused ruefully.

Nathan Stark had come next, pursuing Allie, and Tess had run all kinds of interference. She'd even stooped to 'losing' his phone messages and throwing away some flowers he sent. And while she was busily thwarting Nathan Stark (who she couldn't even get herself to make a half-hearted pass at, the arrogant jackass held no appeal) Allison Grey met John Blake.

Their whirlwind romance left no room for Tess to stick a foot in the door and the semester ended with Tess accepting a position in Tunisia, while Allison followed John to the University of California at Berkeley to finish her second PhD.

Allison invited Tess to the wedding, and Tess was pretty sure they both had pretended to believe her excuse about quarantine procedures for so long that they actually did believe it most days.

Tess hadn't been ready to give away Allison. It had been then that she realized she competed with Allison because she wanted Allison. She buried herself in her research for the next few years.

John Blake died when Allison was eight months pregnant. This time, it really was quarantine protocols that held Tess up for nearly two months, and by the time she arrived, Kevin had been born.

Kevin's autism had been clear from birth, thanks to the technology of the town Allison had been living in with John. It also meant that one Dr. Nathan Stark had found his key to worming his way back into the competition, and Tess had found herself out in the cold, unable to admit her feelings to Allison or wedge her way in between the pair.

It was almost another three years before Stark asked Allison to marry him though.

Seven years later, Tess heard about the divorce at a conference in DC. Nathan Stark was the one who told her. Several sloppy drinks later, she managed to cajole the man into bed.

That ended quickly after one drunken kiss and Stark slurring out the name, "Jack." Tess now pretended she didn't know who the man had been referring to.

Drumming her fingers on the work table in front of her, Tess contemplated Jack. She knew it was old habit, a bad habit, but she thought she had a chance at winning this round. She'd have to step up her game, lay a bit of a claim somehow, she decided. Reassure the skittish sheriff.

If she couldn't win Allison, she could at least win over the men her friend wanted. Cold comfort for company, but it suited her fine, she smiled to herself, heading back down to the lab.


	9. 316: Better Off Forgotten

Title: Better off Forgotten

Pairing: Jack/Nathan/Allison

Rating: R

Word Count: 340

Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money!

Warnings: Spoilers through 316: You Don't Know Jack, threesome, slash

Summary: Allison contemplates a memory, but doesn't donate it.

* * *

Allison stopped typing, regarding the memory ball on her desk. She'd added a handful to the device already, but dozens more lingered, as though poised on the tip of her mental tongue, just waiting to be spilled into the waiting recorder.

One lingered closest to the surface-- _slipping through the open screen door at Nathan's, stopping short as she spotted Nathan pressing Jack Carter into a wall, not in anger like she would expect, but in a toe curling hot kiss that sent a little thrill of voyeuristic pleasure through her body. "Gentlemen," she interrupted, letting her voice trill a little as she dragged out the word. "Isn't this interesting?"_

_Jack's face reflected pure panic, but Nathan, knowing her tone all too well, simply slid his lips down to the sheriff's throat, drawing a small squeak of surprise from the man. "Uh, Allison," Jack tried, but Nathan's hands were getting a little more adventurous and Allison couldn't fault the man with losing his train of thought. _

"_I'm thinking maybe we've been going about this the wrong way," Nathan observed wryly, and Allison grinned, catching on instantly that her ex-husband had set this up. "You want both of us, I want both of you, and Jack…"_

_Jack's head thudded against the wall, eyes rolling. "Are you seriously suggesting we all just hop into bed together, like that will solve anything?"_

"_I can think of one problem it can solve quickly," Nathan replied, groping Jack and making Allison chuckle as she moved closer to the two men._

"_Carter, no one is trying to solve the whole problem, but maybe, have a little fun while we work it out?" Allison suggested, smiling slowly as she laced her fingers through Nathan's so he could guide her hand through what were obviously familiar movements for him.  
_

Allison jumped slightly as the memory ball glowed in her fingertips, and she sighed, pushing back from the desk and heading to find Tess, deciding some memories, in light of recent events, were better off forgotten.


	10. 317: Subtlety, Dad Style

Title: Subtlety, Dad Style

Pairing: Gen

Rating: G

Word Count: 300

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Warnings: Spoilers through 317, Have an Ice Day.

Summary: Zoë didn't think her dad listened to her college rant.

* * *

There were many axioms in Zoë's life, things she absolutely knew to be true, especially when it came to dealing with her father. He couldn't keep a secret, couldn't even pretend to be subtle, and would almost always assert his opinion with a jackhammer and usually end up pissing her off. Luckily, she'd grown better at keeping her temper.

Another unfortunate axiom Zoë had come to expect was that if she thought her dad wasn't hearing her, didn't understand her worry, then he probably didn't. Still, she thought, as she headed up to her room, it was nice not to have any of the college expectations she'd seen Lucas and Pilar's mom lump onto them.

She tossed her book bag down, starting to gather up some clothes to take to Pilar's for the night—she really didn't want to be around when Dad and Tess did their mutual little 'you're not Allison but I'll make do' courtship or whatever they were doing—when she noticed a set of pamphlets on her pillow.

The first was for chemical engineering pre med degree, the second biomolecular engineering as a pre-med degree, and the third general biological pre-med degree. All for the University of Notre Dame. A letter underneath the stack of pamphlets was from her godfather, one of her Dad's old high school buddies who was a Notre Dame alum, offering her and her father a tour and an admissions meeting with a counselor he knew, and included how thrilled he was that Zoë might take after him and pursue medicine.

"Wow, Dad," she said softly, fingering the school seal for a moment. "Subtle and totally awesome."

She added them to her bag, making a mental note to tell Vince not to harass her father about his burger choices for the week.


	11. 318: Voyeur Drone

Title: Voyeur Drone

Pairing: Fargo/Julia, Martha

Rating: R

Word Count: 250

Disclaimer: Not mine, definitely not making any money!

Warnings: crack, and possibly a little weird/squickish. Voyeurism, AI style.

Summary: In the lab? Really?

* * *

Martha took some scans as she settled in to hover over the couch, curious as to why the humans called Douglasfargo and Juliagolden had taken off their clothes and were making odd little noises while they fought. Her auditory sensors registered the noise as pleasant, but her visual sensors regarded the actions as hostile.

Curiosity piqued, she deepened her scans, finding elevated blood pressure, body temperature, and heart rates. The fight did seem to be releasing a lot of chemical endorphins though, she calculated, speculating it was one possible reason for the pleasure noises the humans were making.

Martha spun a little, eddies of air from her flight attracting Juliagolden's attention. "Uh, Douglas, the drone is watching us."

Douglasfargo looked up at her, and for one moment, Martha was sure she was about to be sent back to her recharging pod. Then Douglasfargo smirked and told Juliagolden, "Just think about it like the end of Serenity, River poking her head in to watch Simon and Kaylee."

Martha registered a spike of interest on Juliagolden's face before she bent down to bash mouths with Douglasfargo again. "Ooh, when you put it that way, it's sort of hot, Douglas."

Martha whirred in interest, continuing to observe the humans as they grappled again, deciding there must really be something to this naked fighting. She added it to her list of research topics for the next time she got internet access.

Even if Sheriffjackcarter didn't seem to appreciate it as much as she did.


End file.
